White Ribbon
by AAJL
Summary: For the past five years, on White Day, Ayuzawa Misaki always ends up with one more gift than what she gave out. Unable to deduce who the giver is, Misaki has made it her lifelong goal to determine who this mysterious Valentine is. /One-shot/AU/


Language issues: Yes.

Disclaimer: I do not own KWMS.

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><p>Ayuzawa Misaki sighed, twirling the long piece of silky white ribbon between her fingers. She stared at its perfectly cut ends, so freshly cut it hadn't started to fray yet. She set it carefully alongside the other five identical ribbons, fingering each one to check for unwanted dust.<p>

The shrill shrieking of her phone interrupted her daydreaming. Sighing in annoyance, she stepped over the various documents and hardbacks carelessly strewn all over the floor to where her handbag sat on the worn-out couch.

"Ayuzawa Misaki speaki–"

"_Did'ya get it, did'ya get it?" _It was too easy to tell who the caller was from the bright, much-too-loud voice. Besides, Ayuzawa Misaki's super-rare-out-of-stock-second-hand phone didn't have caller ID.

"Sakura, I can't understand a word you're saying. Calm down and tell me again, slowly."

"_Did-you-get-another-ribbon?"_

Another frustrated sigh escaped her lips. In the background, a calmer, more deadpan voice spoke. "Hand over the phone, Sakura, I'll take over from here." A bit of rustling and the second voice spoke again. "Sakura sneaked an ice-cream from the fridge while I was on the phone with Suzuna. I made her run 40 laps around the park to make up for the sugar, though. Seems that it wasn't enough to completely overcome her sugar rush. Sorry."

"That's understandable, Shizuko. So, what was Sakura saying before you took over? Something about a ri– oh. Right."

"Yeah. Sakura wanted to know whether you got another ribbon."

"I did. So what?"

"You're 25. You haven't dated anyone since Usui Takumi. This could be a chance to finally meet someone."

_Usui Takumi. _The name resonated in her mind like a faulty CD, bringing back unwanted memories of her ex-boyfriend.

"Oh. Sorry, didn't mean to bring up the subject of him again."

"No, don't worry about it. I'm fine. Sorry, but I need to go. Tell Sakura that I got another ribbon."

"Sure thing. Later, Misaki."

"Bye."

_Thank God._

Misaki stepped back over the fallen papers to where six white ribbons lay in a row, parallel to each other, devoid of dust. Fingering the latest addition, Misaki pondered, _"Why do I keep getting these ribbons?"_

For the past five years, on White Day, Misaki had always found a lone white silk ribbon amongst the collection of the usual white flowers and lace handkerchiefs. They were nothing extraordinary: plain silk of the purest white. Misaki couldn't even be sure they came from the same person. What hinted at the one giver was the fact that all the ribbons she'd received so far were exactly the same length, exact same colour and all of the same material. They'd been cut from a roll of white ribbon, obviously, but likewise, they'd all been cut in the same fashion. No one knew about this mystery man; Misaki had long since mastered the skill of blending in with her surroundings and, upon interrogation, carefully word her responses so that they revealed nothing new.

A brief glance at the slightly worn-out photograph on her bedside table brought about a fresh wave of nostalgia. Yes, Ayuzawa Misaki had once dated the heartthrob of Seika High, Usui Takumi. Yes, Ayuzawa Misaki had relinquished all her firsts to Usui Takumi. Yes, Ayuzawa Misaki actually broke down into tears when Usui Takumi suddenly cut off all ties with her about half a decade ago. No, Ayuzawa Misaki had not dated anyone since.

_Fuck this._ This girl needed to get some fresh air, pronto. Grabbing her phone, keys and wallet (which was currently devoid of any cash whatsoever), she quickly stepped over the paper-slash-book carpeting for the third time and out of her tiny apartment.

* * *

><p>It had been a while since Misaki had set foot in 'Kreme Karamel', a small but wonderfully cozy café just around the corner of her apartment block that was famous for its many coffee variations with caramel. Those caramel lattes were to <em>die<em> for.

"One caramel latte, Erika," Misaki called once she'd found a decent table away from the door. She'd once made the critical mistake of sitting right next to the door on a brutally cold day. The wind had not been good for her hands.

"No longer fussing about your weight, Misa?" Erika winked from behind the gleaming silver coffee machine, reaching for a paper cup.

"You think I should lose more?"

"Yeah, and I'll pass my next exam," Erika said, rolling her eyes. "You're such a stick, Misa. A good caramel latte will do you good."

"You think so?"

"Definitely."

"Well then, I'll let you work your magic. If my latte isn't top notch, I'm putting in a formal complaint, even if you are one of my closest friends."

"You never change, do you, Misa?" Erika laughed before returning to her world of caramel lattes and skim cappuccinos.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but do you mind if I sit here? I'm afraid all the other tables are full and I was so hoping for a quick break away from work." A young man, who couldn't have been older than 40, smiled kindly at her.

"No, not at all. I was going to leave as soon as I got my coffee, anyway." It wasn't a lie. This café, despite its ridiculously good lattes, held a lot of special memories for her, most of which included _him._ Ever since they broke up, Misaki hadn't particularly enjoyed visiting Kreme Karamel. Ever the polite lady, she stood up to vacate the small table for the gentleman.

"Oh, no, this simply won't do. You must keep your seat. After all, it was you who first claimed this table," the man smiled, gesturing for her to sit back down. She lowered herself somewhat slowly, unsure of whether that had been the right thing to do.

"Here you go, Misa!" Erika's unmistakably cheerful voice rang out over the loud chatter of customers. "One caramel lat– oh, were you planning on staying this time?"

"Don't worry about it," Misaki smiled, taking the paper cup from Erika's hands. "I'll be leaving soon, anyway." She pressed a five dollar bill into Erika's hand, which she'd luckily discovered crumpled in the pocket of her jeans. "Keep the change." Erika grinned back at Misaki before returning to her coffee machine.

"A friend of yours, I presume?" the man asked.

"Yes," Misaki replied, smiling. "She used to be an employee at my old job."

"I see," the man mused, taking a sip from the cappuccino a waiter had just placed in front of him. "Mm, I see why this place was recommended in the paper. Good quality coffee, this place does." Misaki did not respond; something about the man's face struck her as oddly familiar, and she was trying her best to identify the familiarity without drawing too much attention from the man.

"I see you've figured me out," the man smiled, removing the hat sitting on top of his smooth crop of black hair.

"Gerard!" Shit! How'd she _not_ recognise him? No wonder he looked so bloody familiar! "You look well."

"Long time no see, Misaki," Gerard said with a polite bob of his head. "I take it that you've been in good health?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good to hear. I have a little business with you, and I was hoping I'd run into you here. Takumi did say that you had a particular fondness for this place."

_Takumi._ Misaki almost choked on her coffee upon his name being mentioned.

"It appears that you haven't gotten over your separation just yet," Gerard said softly.

"I suppose you could put it that way," Misaki mumbled.

"I was going to drop by your apartment and give you this, but seeing as you're already here, I might as well give it to you now." From within the briefcase, Gerard extracted a small, white envelope. "This is from Takumi. He apologises for not coming to see you himself, but as the inheritor of one of England's largest corporations, I know for a fact he does not have a lot of time on his hands, even on days with the lightest of workloads."

Misaki's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the envelope; she brought it closer to herself, recognising the familiar Japanese characters only he could produce.

"I'm really sorry, but I don't have much time here. I have an important meeting to attend in about twenty minutes, and it takes about fifteen minutes to get to the place from here," Gerard said apologetically, standing up and leaving a ten dollar bill on the table. "Until the next time we meet, Misaki." He shook her hand warmly before weaving in and out of the crowded café and out the front door.

_It's about time I left, too, _Misaki thought, standing up and waving to Erika one last time before retracing Gerard's footsteps out the café.

* * *

><p>Once safely in the comfort of her bedroom, Misaki slit open the envelope Gerard had handed her only minutes ago, cursing as the paper cut her finger. She set the envelope down briefly to grab a band-aid from her small store of medicinal remedies before retrieving the folded piece of paper wedged inside the envelope. Seeing two whole pagefuls of his beautiful handwriting almost brought tears to Misaki's eyes. Forcing herself to calm down, Misaki began to read.<p>

_My sweet Misaki, are you well? Pray forgive me for neglecting to see you for so long. The business I unwillingly inherited from my late grandfather has taken most of my free time from me._

_You have no idea how much I regret the day I left you emotionally broken in pieces. I have longed to send Cedric or someone to keep an eye on you, follow you wherever you went, but you are an exceptionally smart woman, and I knew you would have figured it out sooner or later. You are much too intelligent for your own good, my Misa._

And so it went on. He continued to ask questions about her present lifestyle, the difficulty and intensity of work, the wellbeing of her sister and mother. Misaki could no longer control the flow of tears she'd kept bottled away for so long as she heard the longing, the yearning behind the handwriting. It didn't take long at all to decipher the motive behind writing to her: he missed her_. _And, try as she might to deny it, she missed him too.

Finally, she was down to the bottom of the final page. Tears were streaming down her face, blurring her vision and staining the paper. Furious with her blatant weakness, she wiped her face free of stains and pressed on.

_Has your choice of career predominated over my existence, or has someone else taken over my place in your heart? It pains me to think as such, but it is impossible to deny the possibility that you have, as they say, 'moved on'. By now, you must have understood that I had no say in leaving you, that it was against the principle laws of Usui Takumi to leave you. I could have ended up attending court from all the protests I made against my grandfather. As the saying goes, 'even the best of us slip up'._

_Please take care of yourself, Misaki. I daresay you haven't forgotten the drastic extents I used to go to to make sure you were properly fed and rested. Don't let my efforts go to waste._

_See you soon,  
><em>_Takumi._

_Shit. _Why the _hell_ did he have such an effect on her, even now?

Wait. _See you soon?_

_Ding dong._

She was going to fucking murder whoever was disturbing her now.

Sighing in frustration, she pulled open the door, doing her best to hide her fury.

"How can I help you?" The words were forced through her teeth. She only hoped the tear stains from before didn't show.

"Delivery for Miss Ayuzawa Misaki?" the mailman said, holding out a long, flat, rectangular box.

"Yeah, that'd be me," she said, grabbing the pen the man held out and started scribbling her signature at the bottom of the paper. Halfway through signing, she skimmed through the document and her pen slid off the page in astonishment.

"Excuse me, but why the hell am I signing a _marriage contract?"_

A strangely familiar chuckle escaped the mailman's lips.

"Sharp as always, Misaki."

Off went the cap; down came the blonde hair. She could now see those piercing green eyes only _he_ had. Giving a little shriek of shock, she acted upon impulse and slammed the door in his face.

"Oi!" he protested, and she could hear the clatter as the box fell on the floor. He cursed under his breath. She could hear him mumble something along the lines of 'uniform', 'invasion' and 'arrest'.

"Fine," she hissed, suddenly pulling open the door again. A startled Takumi fell flat on the floor. "Bring that stupid box in with you, and make it snappy!" He quickly hurried to fulfill her command, pushing the lid back onto the box rather than fitting it properly before hurrying into the small, messy apartment.

"Interesting sense of feng shui_,_ Misa," he said, grinning as he spotted a battered, second-hand book flat on the floor, the spine bent back to accommodate its new open position.

"Shut up," she muttered, picking up the book and replacing it on the bookshelf which stood nearby.

"Oh? You're not hitting me?" Takumi said in mock surprise.

"You want me to?" _Shit, she's angry._

"N–"

_PUNCH._

"Ow! What was that for?" Takumi hissed, pressing his palm to his reddening jaw.

"That's for leaving me without saying anything."

Another punch.

"And _that's_ for not making any move to contact me," she said coolly. "Bullshit you had no time to talk to me," she continued smoothly as Takumi made a move to protest.

A slap to the cheek.

"_That_ was for making me cry over someone as stupid as you."

She flicked him on the forehead. He flinched. "_That_ was because I almost signed a marriage contract to a complete random."

_Ouch._

"Did you even look at the names on the paper?" Takumi sighed in exasperation, rubbing his red cheek. "Look at the name of the person you almost unknowingly married. _Then_ tell me that the person is, as you say, a 'complete random'."

"Wha–" Misaki grabbed the paper off the floor, examining the print in more detail.

_Ayuzawa Misaki... has married _Usui Takumi_..._

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

"Ow," Takumi muttered, rubbing his ears. "Yes, you were about to officially be mine. What, something wrong?"

"...This doesn't... _look_ like a marriage contract," Misaki finally said, peering at the tiny slip of white paper. "Are you sure this isn't a fake or something like that?"

"My clients in England are most... _resourceful,_ one might say," Takumi said with a chuckle. "It wasn't too hard to have a contract fashioned in a similar form as that of a postal slip. In any case, your reaction wasn't what I expected it to be."

"What did you expect?"

"_There's no way in hell I'm marrying you, you perverted outer-space alien!"_ Takumi imitated.

"I don't sound anything like that!"

"It's incredible, what people can think of themselves."

"Oh yeah? You want to know what I think of you right now? I think you're being a pain in the ass, and it's about time you left." She literally shoved him towards the front door; Takumi's jaw hit the floor when he felt for himself her insane strength.

"Out. _Now._"

"Yes... yes, I should go now," Takumi said flatly, his hair carefully covering his eyes. "I'm sorry I bothered you." He left.

_Fuck. Her. Life._

Slapping herself on the forehead, she quickly averted her gaze from the door to the box Takumi had brought her, which was still sitting on the table. Lifting the lid, her eyes were greeted by white taffeta embroidered with pretty silver swirls.

"Pretty," she murmured, lifting the material out of the box.

_Damn this is hea... vy..._

She extracted from the box a long, strapless white dress. The white, silky fabric split from the middle of the waist down, revealing more of the silvery swirls that decorated the bodice. A wedding dress.

Pretty.

A small slip of paper fell out from the folds of the dress. It had his handwriting on it.

_Marry me?_

Sighing and shaking her head, Misaki pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed the one number she hadn't rang for the last five years, smiling as she planned out her cheeky remark.

"Usui Takumi speaking."

"You got a date for our wedding?"

* * *

><p>(Two weeks later. They're engaged.)<p>

* * *

><p>"...And yeah, that's basically it," Misaki finished, sipping her caramel latte.<p>

"White ribbon, 35 centimeters, straight cut," Takumi mused, reaching into his pocket. "You mean like this one?"

...

"So it was _you_ who kept giving me those ribbons!"

* * *

><p><span>Original story: A woman realised that she kept getting one long white ribbon on White Day, every single year. She'd keep track of all the chocolates she'd given out on Valentine's Day, yet this lone ribbon always ended up amongst her other gifts as an extra. One day, she came across a man about her age who accidentally dropped a white ribbon from his pocket which looked exactly like the ones she'd been getting. She questioned him, he admitted to leaving her the ribbons, and they fell in love and got married.<span>

Yes, Erika now works at Kreme Karamel. Remember how she and Subaru only work part-time at Maid Latte and have a second job? This is it. :)

Anyone who guesses who made the dress gets a virtual white flower ;)

Want to see the dress for yourself? You know where to go.

White Day will never be White Day without reviews. Care to leave one?

Edit 1: I've been getting a few questions about whether the original plot is based on something from DN Angel. To be honest, I actually have no idea. I was looking for research material for an assignment that was due in a few weeks and I came across that story and thought it cute. Sure, I've seen a few episodes of DN Angel (and it's cute to boot), but I have absolutely no idea whether the ribbon thing is from that or not. ^^;


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